Heat Of The Moment

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>9785
The sticky of /tg/ will help you.
And I pick
>Ricky Manason

>>9806
Pretty solid name

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>9785

Ginger-Finger Jacky

>>9806
I just mean in general I don't get how dice rolling works. You seem to have a higher number than Ginger-Finger Jacky though, so fuck it that's what we'll go with.

Oh yeah, Ricky Manason. You look around, and besides the endless expanse of the desert hellscape you see
>A black van, kicking up a dust cloud in the distance. Probably pretty easy to go to, since it's moving towards you
>a small town, waaay far off. It's a long walk, but you could potentially get some water there.
Which of these do you go to for help?

File: Rolling.gif (20KB, 304x30px) Image search: [Google]

20KB, 304x30px

Rolled 9, 20, 1 = 30 (3d20)

>>9854
>a small town, waaay far off. It's a long walk, but you could potentially get some water there.
I don't like the look of that van.
I'm a newfag as well. From what I've seen. You type in Options "dice+xd100" to roll. The first "x" is how many dice you're rolling and the second "x" is how many sides it has. Like dice+3d20

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>9854
Black vans are never good, and we can't outrun it

>wiggle into the desert sand and hide like a baby octopus

>>9873
Ah, alrighty then. I don't think I'm gonna factor that into the story but that's good to know.

I'll wait for another post to pass judgement on where we're going.

>>9854
Second

>>9898
Im an idiot I meant
>>9873

>>9898
You shamble through the desert to the tiny town, sun beating down on your pale skin as you walk, pain shooting up your legs with every step.

Better than the van though.

You finally reach the entrance of the town known as "NO GRINGOS ALLOWED"...wait, no. The sign says Esmeralda.

You see a local bar, and hobble over to it. Upon entering, the entire establishment stops and looks at you, vaguely angry.

Do you...
>Leave and not cause any trouble
>hobble over to the bar and ask for a glass of ice water

>>9961
Ask for water.

>>9961
>hobble over to the bar and ask for a glass of ice water
What could possibly go wrong here?

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>9961
We obviously did something to piss off the locals last night

>Attempt some sweet moonwalking to appease them

>>9976
Ask what country I am in and for the ice water.

>>9961
>hobble over to the bar for a glass of ice water

Better risk then dying of dehydration

Rolled 5, 5 = 10 (2d6)

>>9980
second this

don't mind the dice thing, Im just trying it. I'm a newfag too but this whole quest is appealing to me

>>9976
>>9975
You disregard the looks of the patrons and walk towards the bar.

The bartender, a surly gruff-looking sort, asks "Whaddaya want?". You ask for a glass of water, in a polite raspy voice. He turns on a tap, and fills a glass with water. You glance around, and see the van from earlier coming into town. "Hey, uhh..." you start to say, but are interrupted by the bartender pulling a knife and pointing it at your throat.

"Listen here, fuckwad. I don't need you or your rich white-ass friends coming in here and fucking my bar up a second time, so take your fucking drink and get the hell outta here."

"Uh, okay..." you rasp. "Could I, um..." you turn around and show him your restraints. He slices them off cleanly, then puts the glass in your hand and points you to the door. You get up.

A man in a dark suit and sunglasses bursts through the front door, flanked by two other men with the same attire. He looks at you. "This the one, boss?" He says, to no one in particular. After a moment, the three starts walking towards you.

Do you...
>Try to escape through the window
>Try fighting the suits.

>>10027
Don't do anything.

>>10027
don't do anything

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>10027
It's times like these that you gotta fake it 'til you make it

>"That man you think is your boss is an imposter! I'm the real boss, he's stolen my identity! Get him boys!"

>>10027
Stay calm and cool.

>>10030
>>10035
*sigh...*
You resign yourself to whatever fate these suits have in store for you. It can't be worse than whatever these locals were planning.

They take the water and put it back on the bar, place a crisp $100 next to it, and drag you out.

You approach the van, and start to get inside. Suddenly, the suit to your right's head explodes, his brain matter hitting against the window of the van. The suit to your left's head does the same. The suit restraining you is only able to get two words in: "REQUESTING BAC-" when his head explodes into a shower of hot blood.

You freeze, shocked and mortified. What in the everloving FUCK is going on here?!

"Yo, fag." you hear a deep voice shout from the rooftops. "You good?"

You turn around, and see a heavy-set white guy with a sniper rifle on the roof of the bar. You think of what to say next...

>"Uh...yeah, I think I'm fine"
>"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON THESE GUYS JUST FUCKING DIED"

>>10102
Ask him for any information he has on the situation.

>>10102
The latter

>>10102
It's just a drug and party induced hallucination

>Point a finger gun at the roof man, wink, and say "Good tootin' sheriff."

>>10116
That could be read as the second, I guess, so...

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON MAN?! THESE GUYS' HEADS JUST FUCKING EXPLODED!!" you shout.

"Yeah, that tends to happen when you shoot people in the head, Rick. Hold on a sec, I'm coming down."

He leaps into the air, and for a second you think things are gonna go logically and he's gonna splatter across the sand.

Things aren't going very logically today.

He pauses in midair, and slowly lowers himself to the ground. He's wearing a cowboy hat, a ripped up T-shirt, and some jeans.

"I...who the...the fuck..." you stammer, dumbfounded.

"Listen man, this is all probably seeming pretty fucking weird to you right now--"
"NO FUCKING SHIT" you reply.

"--but I can explain everything. Get in the van, and wait up. Driver should have put the air conditioning on, and I think we got some Fiji water in there somewhere."

You do as you're told. This day doesn't seem like it's gonna get any less weird.

Inside, there's a man in pajama pants and a tank top, guzzling a bottle of water. There's another bottle in a cup holder next to you. You cautiously sit down next to him, start drinking.

He looks over at you. This man looks...oddly familiar. "Oh shit, you're still alive?" he asks. "What's up man?"

Do you...
>ask him about your current situation
>ask him his name
>freak out about the fucking flying sniper and the head explosions

>>10186
Freak out about the sniper and head explosions.

>>10186
Ask him wtf is happening and who's him

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>10186
You need some relaxing music to take your mind off things

>begin simulating a saxophone

>>10196
>>10202
"WHAT IN THE FLYING SHIT IS FUCKING HAPPENING?! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! WHY DID THAT FUCKING COWBOY SNIPER START FLYING AND SHIT?!" you scream, and start hyperventilating.

"Relax, bro, it's all good."

The sniper gets in the car. "How's he doin' back there, he good?"

"Yeah, he's all good man, he's just a bit freaked out is all."

"Welp, that about figures. Let's get 'im into the city and let him know what's up."

The driver takes off, and pulls onto the road. Sniper turns around.

"Now, do you remember how you ended up in the desert this fine mornin'?" You think about what to say to him next.

>"I...I mean I think there was a party last night, there were some drugs involved, I dunno..."
>"HOW THE FUCK DID YOU START FLYING?! WHAT IN THE SHIT IS GOING ON?! etc."

>>10237
Are both of the last 2 lines said by the main character?

>>10242
Yeah, that's the choice there. Are you gonna help them out or continue to freak out like a jackass?

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>10237
Being overly stressed is unhealthy for the human body

>Meditate while humming loudly and at a very high pitched frequency

>>10237
The first one, I think its better for him to start calming down or this will start to feel like anime

>>10248
Oh, I thought he was bipolar and saying them both.

In that case, I choose the calm option.

>>10252
>>10253
"I don't know, I think a party happened last night, Like some drugs were taken or something, I mean..." you say, trying to be helpful but still confused as all hell.

"Ah, there we go." says the sniper. He digs through the glove compartment. "Now, some shit went down last night, and you took some drugs you shouldn't have. One of them was sort of experimental, I don't know how it got there, but it got a lot of bad people pissed off. Some shady shit went down, and...well, I guess there's no easy way to put this. You were sold."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" you say. The pajamas guy goes "He means like...into slavery man, you were gonna be a fuckin' slave or some shit."

"Now, it's not that simple, Hunter, it's not like he was gonna be workin' the cotton fields or nothin' like that." The sniper interjects.

Man in Pajamas (Hunter?) shrugs. "I mean that's basically what they did to him, sold him to Lorenzo." he says. "Oh, by the way, I'm Hunter, and he's Joe."

"Pleasure t' meet ya." Joe the sniper says, shaking your hand. "Now, like I was saying, you got sold to a man named Lorenzo by your friends, he paid them off in cocaine or somethin'. Aha!"

Joe pulls a syringe gun out of the glove compartment, and says "Did it look anything like this, what you took last night?"

A sudden, inexplicable rage fills your body. Flashes of memory start coming back.

Club lights. Shooting up. Your douchey friends. Drinks. A man in an all-black suit.

"Those motherfuckers." you say to yourself.

"Hey, that's what I said, man." Hunter says, chuckling.

Do you...
>ask about Lorenzo
>ask about the drug
>ask about your friends

Also guys I really gotta be getting to sleep right about now, but I'm gonna try and come back in the morning if I can.

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>10328
>Lament over the loss of innocence and betrayal of trust in an ever more miserable world by composing a short poem

>>10328
Ask about Lorenzo

>>10334
'night mate, everyone needs their sleep.
I'll probably be going to sleep too.

>>10328
Ask about Lorenzo

Gnight btw I'll go get some sleep too

>>10335

These were my friends
My heart they rent
Gave them my trust
It all went bust
Now I'm wiser
Pull down my visor
Gotta go home and curl up.

>>10343
>>10580
"Alright, so who's this Lorenzo fuckbag?"

Joe's face goes white.

"Fuckin' Lorenzo...Well, originally he was just a real small-time fella. Dealt primarily in little petty shit, but he showed a lot of promise for a youngin'. Started working his way up the ladder, as a man's wont to do when he wants power. Besides his salesmanship skills, this guy had some abilities that gave him an edge over his competitiors."

"What kind of abilities?" you ask, already assuming he was talking about the flying and shit.

"Well, you saw a little demonstration of 'em back when I shot his goonies over at the bar. It's some weird science shit I don't know the half of, but he became a legend because he could do shit like flying, had super strength, fire powers, invisibility, boy was a literal superhero."

"Or, villain, as it were." Hunter interjects.

"Anyways," Joe continues, "as it turns out, Lorenzo had gotten these powers from some experimental drug program, and he'd kept under the radar by only using his powers for intimidation purposes. Everything was going great for him until one of his lackeys fucked up a shipping order for his drugs."

"And that's how they got to the party last night?" you ask.

"Yep. Now, we were both at the party as well, and somehow the drug ended up in our veins too. We don't actually know what'll happen if it runs out, but we got some extra, so until that happens we should be okay."

You nod, and think about what you'll ask next.

Do you...
>ask about the drug
>ask about your friends

Sorry about the wait.